


Stay

by BlueJay26



Series: Poetry and Birds [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Academia, Andreil love each other, Author Andrew, But author andrew is now a thing, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I LOVE THESE TWO BOYS SO MUCH, M/M, More academic andrew, No i did not plan that, Poetry, Soft Andrew Minyard, Soft Neil Josten, What do you mean im projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueJay26/pseuds/BlueJay26
Summary: Neil visits an antique store.Andrew gets a present.Happy boys.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Poetry and Birds [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888687
Comments: 8
Kudos: 132





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my poetry series, but it's standalone.

It's a passing thought. He's passing an antique store, and the thought of a leather-bound journal flashes into his mind. He's with his team, and he can't stop. They're on some kind of team building outing that makes him miss the Foxes. He files the address away in his mind and resolves to return in his free time. 

That evening he makes his way back to the store. He goes inside, hoping no one recognises him. The smell inside is something he associates with a room in their house, where Andrew keeps all his books. It feels familiar, and Neil smiles. He wishes Andrew's there with him, so he can appreciate it. He'll settle for taking a part of it back home with him.

An old man emerges from behind the counter.

"Hi, are you looking for something specific?" 

"Actually, yes. My partner," and that word, that word he's only said a few times, feels so fresh in his mouth, "likes to journal. This looks like a place that would fit his aesthetic."

"If you're looking for something academic, I keep the stationery and notebooks in that corner. We also have special notebooks for art and music, if that's what he likes."

Neil wanders over to the notebooks, stopping to examine the key chains. He decides he'd rather Andrew buy him a new key tag, when he notices Neil's is getting old. After all these years, Andrew still likes to show he cares.

He stands in front of the display for a while, not sure what Andrew would like. He rules out everything that wasn't black, but there's still so much choice. 

Would Andrew even want Neil to get him a journal? Maybe that's a piece of him he's locked up. What if he resents Neil's meddling? Well, it hasn't stopped him before, but this is more sacred than Aaron. This is something Andrew has entrusted Neil with, going so far as to tell him why he liked certain poems. This is something Neil does not want to screw up. He sighs, reaching out to brush his fingers over the notebooks. He might identify a good one by feel.

He hears the old man approaching from behind him. He looks up, questioning.

"Some people prefer to buy their own notebooks. Why don't you look at the pens? They are just as personal, and we have a couple of lovely ink pens."

That is a good idea. Everything in the notebook is written in a mixture of gel and ball and pencil. Andrew would want something he could call his own, but also share with Neil. Neil nods and motions for the man to show him.

He was right. The pens are lovely. They're old and black, with the shine of frequently polished wood. He picks up the one with silver trim, surprised to see an inscription on the cap.

"I suspect it was a gift during the war. Someone who wanted their sweetheart to stay safe." The old man's expression is kind, understanding. Neil is used to his scars eliciting that reaction.

"I think I'll take it. And if you have any extra cartridges, I'll take those as well."

A week later, Neil gets into the Maserati with Andrew. He leans against the headrest, turning his head to watch him. He's missed the calm he feels in Andrew's presence. Andrew shifts gears and reaches across to take Neil's hand. He squeezes it, pleased to feel the calluses that mean Andrew had practiced without him. He smiles, knowing Andrew can feel it.

"Shut up. I got bored." His annoyed tone is countered by the fingers rubbing Neil's hand.

When they reach home, Andrew makes sure he's out of the car before Neil so he can carry Neil's bag. Neil knows it's one of Andrew's ways to show he cares, so he leaves it be and takes his free hand.

Neil can't stop smiling through dinner, and as soon as Andrew puts his plate in the sink, he jumps up and gets the pen from his bag. It came in a wood box stained black, with a silver latch. Andrew raises an eyebrow when he comes back into the room.

"I visited an antique store. It seemed like something you'd do." Neil explains, suddenly irrationally nervous. "I got you something I thought you might like." 

"You didn't have to." Andrew says, looking surprised.

"I wanted to." Neil sits next to Andrew and hands him the box.

Andrew takes it with both hands, holding it like something sacred. He gently pushes the latch up, and looks at Neil. Neil realises he's been watching Andrew's hands, smiling softly to himself. He looks up when Andrew turns to him, and bites his lip. He tilts his head toward the box. An invitation.

"Thank you," Andrew says, and Neil can't remember why he'd been nervous.

Andrew opens it and picks the pen up. He goes to uncap it, but stops when the writing comes into view.

"Stay."

"I thought it was appropriate." Neil says.

"Neil," Andrew says seriously. "Did you get this engraved."

"No, but I picked it because of the writing."

Andrew puts the box on the table, and reaches for Neil's hand. "I've always wanted an ink pen."

"It's black." Neil moves so he can hold Andrew's hand in both of his.

"And it's black." Andrew said, looking up at him with a slight smile.

Neil rests his head on Andrew's shoulder. "I'm glad you like it."

"You knew I would."

"Now you can write all those stories you're saving up."

Neil brings Andrew's hand to his lips, pausing before kissing his fingertips. He likes these evenings, the ones where they can both be open and free with each other. It feels like a sunset, all the different colours merging into one. Him and Andrew merging together, nothing from their pasts affecting them.

Andrew puts the pen back in its case and shuts it. "One day."

"I look forward to it. "

Andrew leans his head against Neil's, pressing the lightest of kisses to his forehead. Neil burrows his head into Andrew's neck and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> And we will leave them there, basking in each other's presence.
> 
> Sometimes I wonder if Neil might have been a poet, in another life.
> 
> (Edit: I realised the rest of this series is written in the present tense, and wanted to remedy that real quick)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! :)


End file.
